The Red of the Red, white, and blue
by WithMyFreezeRay
Summary: When in the eighteenth century, Listair Martins finds out she's not who she thinks she is, and neither is her father. The years for Ezio are a little off, I know. Please read and respond! Thank you! I want to know if it's any good so i can continue it!


Assassin: A new Beginning

A take on an Assassin Legend

**Cecelia Schroeder**

Slowly and carefully, I ran my hand over the silver blade. This destiny was one I didn't fully understand. The blade was cold and hard under my hand, something solid, permanent. _Dad, oh dad… where are you?_

**12 Hours Prior**

"Chris Martins, you are under arrest for the promotion of violence within your town. Do you have any words for your family?" I looked up from where I was sitting by the fireplace, reading a book. I wasn't supposed to be reading books when company was over, yet again, the men were unannounced.

"Lizzie, you need to go in my office and look for Aonghus Zeller in my book. Be a dear and fetch him for me, please. Don't worry, this will be—fine," he stammered. I looked up. Was that all he could think of? Did he really think he was going to be okay? Maybe this was why the men with the cross pins on their jackets had been standing across the street in the dim light of the streetlamps for days, watching, waiting for my father to slip up. I hadn't told him because he thought they were petty nonsense after the first time I tried to tell him.

"Shut your brain to them; they mean nothing," he'd said. Now he was going with them, those petty nonsense men with the cross pins. Who were they?

"Father! What's going on?" I screamed as they dragged him out the front door. He was gone, and he was all I had. No mother, no sisters or brothers, no known relatives to talk about. I was just a strange name now, Listair Ezio Martins. What kind of name was that for a sixteen year old girl? I bolted the door and ran for my room. I lay sobbing on the bed for what felt like forever until I finally cried myself to sleep.

The next morning, I woke up to the usual rush and clatter of carts and footsteps on the street. Just another mild September morning in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, 1786; except, my father was long gone. Jumping up, I realized I'd forgotten to look up Mr. Zeller in the book my father kept of his bank friends. I flew down the flight of stairs and paused in the front hall of our crowded townhouse to stare longingly at the door. Would father ever be back? I continued through a door and into his study. The study was a wide expanse of bookcases and about twenty candles, all melted down into their stands from usage. Both my father and I loved to read, and I was often criticized by my father's friends' wives. My father had never remarried after my mother died two years ago, which was strange because father had always wanted a boy in the family. Why, though, when he was so happy having me as a daughter?

I found the book where it always was, perched on the perfect parallel to the left edge of the desk. I opened to the end of the book and started my search. My father knew a lot more people with a lot more powerful connections than any banker should know, which always confused me. I flipped open to Zeller's name and saw it written neatly next to a less-than-helpful address.

_87-42-63 é_

"A. Safé… what is A. Safé? Oh!" I thought aloud. Father's safe! I always knew father had taught me to crack safes for a reason. I was only ten then, did he know this was going to happen? I walked over to the safe and started to dial in the numbers until the lock finally clicked and gave way to the contents of the safe.

I was more than dazzled and more confused than before. The silver blades glistened after, what looked like, a long, weary slumber in the safe. Robes were folded underneath the weapons and a letter perched at the hilt of the sword with my name in father's neat scrawl. For some reason, I subconsciously realized I probably shouldn't bring out the robes until I'd closed the drapes in father's study, so I started with the letter. I also knew that the robe stood not only for danger, but for glory as well, but, what was it doing in father's, or even my own possession? A nagging echo pulled at the back of my mind.

"Adelede, she has to. I don't have any other ways."

"Christoph, it's too dangerous. She a girl, for Christ's sake. You can't let her—"

"It will happen, Adelede, and there's nothing I can do about it!"

"Your boy, I'm so sorry I never could. Don't let Lizzie…"

The conversation was from a day before my mother's death. Apparently I was supposed to have a brother, but mother got really sick one day and the baby stopped kicking. The next week, she was dead. I miss her dearly, but father has been so good to me. I was supposedly sleeping that night, but I wasn't. I was too worried to sleep. I took a breath and opened the letter.

_Dearest Listair,_

_ Why I am gone, you are probably asking yourself. I know you wouldn't know. We're in a dangerous group, Lizzie; a dangerous family. I always hoped you had a brother, so I wouldn't have to subject you to what will happen now. You would have had someone to care for you, but it didn't happen and I think it was meant to be this way. You, Listair Ezio, are not Martins at all. You are an Auditoire; the first woman assassin._

I nearly dropped the letter into the candle I was standing over. A woman assassin? My father loved to tell me stories of them. They were legends who revolutionized life in cities with corrupt leaders and saved them from the grasp of the Templars, an extremely powerful European group. I never thought that these stories were the truth, or even actual historical events until now. I even saw their connections in my name: Altair was one and Ezio Auditore was the other. I looked back to the letter again.

_We moved from Italy when you were only four years old. It's hard to believe we've been here 12 years and living under the impression I was safe for ten of them. We are related to the great men in the stories, Lizzie. We know legendary people, legendary ways; our relations are incredulous, but believe me, we are powerful even if you don't believe. Today at four o clock, they, the Templars, will hang me and you cannot save me. Dress in the robes and get out of this house as soon as you can. Please try to get to Aonghus' house before nightfall. He lives north of here, remember? We've visited him before._

_ I love you my daughter,_

_ Christoph Auditoire_

_P.S. whatever you do, do NOT take off the hood._

Auditoire? That means that Ezio is my great grandfather. Ezio rang through my mind like a loud bell. He'd lived to be rather old, dying about two years before my mother. He was the last face I remembered before boarding the boat to America. A scared lip that had kissed my forehead and the deep brown eyes. He told me I was a beautiful child and someday my parents would be proud. He and father must have known then…

"He was my grandfather," I said aloud. The clock on the hall downtown struck one in the afternoon. Father! I ran my hand across the sword and the assassin's knife. I slowly closed the curtains and lit another candle so I could clearly see the robe. It came with a brown pair of pants and a baggier white shirt. The weapons were in brown leather pouches attached to a belt around my shoulder and tied at my waist. The robe itself was a combination of white with red slits up the sides and at the arm; the collar was also red. The pants fit perfectly and the shirt did its job to cover up the fact that I was actually a girl I pulled the hood securely around my face, realizing that it would take getting used to. The weapons fit perfectly into the brown pouches, which were fixed around the buckle of the belt; on the belt, the seal of the assassins, like I'd seen it several times in the study, I'd realized.

I left the study and hurriedly tried to find something to eat, figuring I wouldn't get to for a while. As I sat eating some bread at the table, I heard the clock on the town hall strike the half hour of three. I tucked father's letter, which had been sitting on the table, into one of the robe pockets, put the sword in the hilt, and stalked silently into the hall by the front door.

"This is it," I said to myself, walked over the doorstep, and closed and locked the door for what I know now to be the last time. I figured I'd waste no time and hurried off down the street. The square was still about twenty minutes away and I'd wasted about ten minutes staring at the picture of father, mother, and I about three years ago. We'd looked so happy then; my parents had kept their secret well. As I walked silently down the road, I thought about where father could have possibly gone wrong, where he could have slipped up and let someone bad into his ring of friends. I figured he was too smart for that, so I tried to draw a parallel from the stories dad told me. Maybe he was betrayed by one of his clients trying to avoid jail.

"Betrayed!" I laughed to myself. With the American government they way it lie, I would believe it. I took a second to look around me, glancing to the left and right. People were staring at me, and then quickly averted their attention to someone else after catching a glimpse of the assassin red and white. Some even appeared to be pointing and telling their friends what they were looking at. I felt awkward; I didn't like attention and never really got any from boys my age, or had any friends for that matter. All I knew were my father's business clients and the four walls of our house. I think I barely ever left except when father left with me and it was probably so he wouldn't lose me. He needed me more than I needed him.

**(Bong!) **As I approached the outer edge of the square, the clock started to strike four and I ran for a tree close to the gallows. I could see father with a rope around his neck staring out into the crowd, probably looking for me. I swallowed hard as tears welled into my eyes.

**(Bong!) **I heard the leader of the guard start to speak, so I climbed into the tree to see better.

"You, Christoph Martins, are being convicted of treason. Does anyone have any evidence to convince me otherwise?" A fourth of the people started jeering while another fourth of the crowd cheered. What was going on? Were these what Templars and Assassins looked like? Just ordinary people who had picked a side? The other half of the crowd stood confused at the oral battle between the two groups.

"What happened to fair and honest trial, Mr. Patzi?" my father shouted out. He looked so calm and collected. How could he be when he was about to be hanged? How long had I watched him suffer silently?

**(Bong!) **That was three times the clock had struck. I swallowed back even more tears. Someone standing below me looked up as a stray tear fell onto their cheek.

"It will all be okay, my child. You will know soon enough," he gave me a sympathetic face and turned back to my father. That was Eric Myser. He was a client of my father; an assassin, like him.

"There's already been a fair trial, Mr. Martins. Any other questions?" Mr. Patzi waited, then looked onto the side of the square where I crouched in the leafy foliage. He couldn't see me, but he could see the Assassins below me. "Then it is time."

I wanted so badly to scream or cry out, but I knew that could jeopardize the group. Why did I seem so loyal to a group that, since learning about it, had only cost me the only person I came to love and trust?

"LONG LIVE THE AUDITOIRE!" her father shouted. I leaned out of the branch a bit more, just in time to catch Patzi muttering that he WAS the last of the Auditoire. He was in for a surprise. The executioner pulled the lever.

**(Bong!) **My father didn't even struggle before he hung motionless from the end of his noose. How could he possibly be so brave? I decided since he had given his life so millions could live and the assassins, the true heroes, could prosper, I needed to follow in his footsteps. I swallowed my sadness and anguish as I opened my lungs and shouted a sentence that could possibly lead to my damnation.

"Long live Christoph Auditoire!" I screamed and jumped out of the tree and ran for the edge of the square. It didn't take long for Patzi to put his guard after me, for him to realize something was wrong and that he'd failed at what he intended to do. I ran south to confuse them as to where I was going; like I was going home. I wanted desperately to go home. Then, I took a shortcut that father and I had taken many times to lose followers or guards. When I was sure I was safe of any danger, I turned north and let my feet lead me blindly while my brain let my emotions get the best of me. I wept about halfway to Mr. Zeller's home, but managed to pull it together as I approached the front wall.

The home was just north of Philadelphia, in a richer district. It was rather large in size; it could have held two of father and I's modest town house inside. The white walls were stucco and had sections of wood showing. A stone wall ran along the front of the property, which looked like it had been shot at during the revolution. I ran my fingers along the wall as I crept toward the door.

"Hello? Is anyone here?" I knocked lightly on the door until someone opened it a crack and looked out.

"You—you made it," the voice sounded confused, like he hadn't believed I would make it, or choose to come to the house. The man opened the door and then I remembered him from a few years ago. Aonghus stood, hand poised on the doorknob, his green eyes surprised to see me in the assassin's robes. He ran his hand through a mop of brown hair. He seemed skinnier than the first time I saw him, and his young-looking face had a few more wrinkles. He was only around thirty, after all.

"I do remember you. We came to talk to you a month ago," I said softly.

"Look what a month has done to you, my child," he murmured softly. "A few hours, actually."

"Mr. Zeller—"

"Just call me Aonghus. You just watched your father die; you don't have to be proper to anyone right now."

"Thanks, Aonghus," I replied. He led me down a hallway and into the large dining room. A fire burned in the fireplace just behind the head chair. It surprised me that every other chair at the table was full except for two; there were about fifteen chairs in total. Surprisingly, Aonghus took the one to the right of the head chair and motioned for me to sit down on the head chair, which sported the assassin emblem. After I sat down, he motioned for everyone to eat. I picked sparingly at my plate, still feeling alone. Aonghus stared at me before addressing the rest of the table just moments later.

"Gentlemen, and lady," he waved his hand at me and whispered, "You can take the hood off," after I did, the table let out a gasp. "This is Christoph Auditoire's daughter. No family, no one she knows well is left, all thanks to the Templars."

A murmur rose from the table. A few explicit comments were said and I heard a lot of, "That's his daughter?" I leaned back in my chair.

"So wait. Why are they targeting me, or well, the whole assassin group? How about America for that matter? My father though he was safe until two years ago!" exclaimed. I wanted some answers and knew they would tell me the truth. The table looked surprised that I would talk directly to anyone. Hey, my father didn't raise me exactly the way other families would raise daughters.

Aonghus looked confused at first, and then looked at me directly. "Simple. The new American government of course!"

"What does that have to do with my father's death?" I asked.

"See, the articles of confederation give too much power to the individual states. The Templars see this and wish to create an empire to take us down. There's more of them than of us right now. They will kill anyone who gets in their way, including assassins," he said, turning back to face the other chairs that surrounded us.

"But really, what or how will that benefit the Templars? How will that help them take down the assassins?" I asked stupidly.

"Lower control for the states means that they can create this country-like state and the federal government won't be able to do anything about it. They can force their ideas and criticisms onto the citizens of the state and make them believe we are bad!" Aonghus poked the fireplace with a metal stir that was next to the hearth. "When they gain their empire, we lose everything we've worked for. Understand?"

"Mostly." I stirred my food around on my plate a little more, trying to make it look like I was eating. I had no appetite, but who would if they just saw their father hanged? Aonghus sat back down and started to conspire among the members seated around him. When he saw I wasn't eating, he looked at me warily.

"I know you're mourning, child, but you must eat some food. An old friend will be here in the morning to guide you on your first assassination."

"What?" I almost spit out the forkful of food I'd forced into my mouth. "I'm not even trained!"

"Don't worry so much, Listair," it was the first time he'd said my name since I arrived. "You're an Auditoire. You'll know exactly what to do. Now let me show you to your room. You have a full day ahead of you tomorrow."

"Who will I be after?" I asked.

"James Patzi," Aonghus said plainly. I guess he knew who I wanted gone first, or did he?

"Did he do anything besides condemn my father?"

"Betrayal," Aonghus replied. I knew it.

"I would have never guessed," I replied sarcastically. Aonghus smiled.

"Guess Christoph did tell you some good stories after all," he opened the door to a small room just a few doors down from the dining room. "This is your room. A maid will be in to wake you in the morning. Will you be alright?" I could tell he never had to deal with someone so close to a child's age in his home before, let alone a girl, for that matter.

"Yes," I replied. He said goodnight then walked back down the hall to the dining room. The room, despite its size, was extremely lavish with an intricate four posted bed and red draperies hanging from every inch of it. _Red must be the color_, I thought. The color of blood, the color of death, the color of my feelings towards James Patzi. I found a pair of sleep robes, changed, and fell asleep to the rise and fall of voices down the hallway and thoughts of what tomorrow may bring.

I couldn't believe who was helping me on my first assignment. As we walked down the street towards the square where I stood yesterday to talk to an informant, my own cousin, Giovanni Auditoire (named for his great, great uncle: Ezio's dad), stood next to me. He looked like he could be my twin with the same brown hair and brown eyes as me. He stared at me when he had first seen me in the entry hall that morning; I don't think he could believe that I was an assassin and he wasn't. I think he was holding a grudge.

"You know, talking to me wouldn't hurt you," I said, breaking the silence.

"I know, but I'm trying to think of what to say. Um, sorry your dad died," he said.

"I miss him," I sighed.

"It must be hard to lose your father. Mine was gone before I even knew him," Giovanni scanned the square, looking for our informant before walking over to a guard standing under the tree I had been perched in yesterday afternoon. He pulled gently on my sleeve and directed me toward the side of the tree where we leaned casually, as if resting with Giovanni closest to the guard.

"Good day to you, sir," he said. The guard turned his head slightly, then fixed his gaze on a vendor cart not too far away.

"Giovanni, Patzi has changed his schedule and will be standing outside independence hall in about an hour, talking to members of the council about some new provision they want to try out instead of the Articles. The Templars are none too happy right now, my friend. I would try to leave the streets before—before—" Another guard was approaching now, looking a little skeptical of Giovanni and I, so we pretended to have a conversation about the vendor stand.

"Who are these boys?" he demanded of the guard we had just been talking to.

"Oh! Sorry, Commander Potter, just making sure these children are wandering with reason," our informer replied timidly.

"Well, make sure they get out of here soon. There's an important meeting letting out and we can't have them disturbing our cabinet members," Commander Potter stared first at Giovanni, then at me in the assassin's robes. I only saw his cold, blue eyes for a second before I heard him say to Giovanni, "And tell your younger brother to get rid of that ridiculous costume, or he could be arrested for someone he is not."

"Yes, sir. It won't happen again, sir," Giovanni replied and pulled me off toward a small tavern at the edge of the square. "That was close," he breathed.

"You mean that could have gotten me killed?"

"Danger of the job," we sat down on a bench and watched people pass by for a few minutes. "So, do you know what you're doing?"

"Not in the least. Angus said I would know; I'm an Auditoire," I gazed at my hand, which had the assassin blade strapped firmly to my wrist, the cold metal close to my warm skin. When I thought about it, I felt like it belonged there. I was supposed to be here.

"He has a lot of faith in you. Listair, after you assassinate Patzi, it is important that you get yourself right back to Angus' house. I have total faith in you as well," he smiled and patted my shoulder. "No one wanted to tell you last night, but a group went and raided your house last night."

"Why ever would they do that?" I wondered aloud.

"Because today Patzi went over and burned everything that was left."

That settled it. All the questions I had about killing Patzi were gone. He had now taken just about everything from me. My father, my family, and almost, my life; what was next? My hand balled up into a fist beside me.

"I'm sorry. Are you okay?" Giovanni asked me. He looked genuinely concerned.

"I will be in an hour's time, or at least close to okay," I muttered. Giovanni smiled.

"Now there's the mindset," he said finally. We sat for an hour talking about family life and how everything would be different now, then Giovanni pointed to independence hall.

"That's him," I muttered, getting up from the bench I sat on.

"Be careful, my cousin," he called after me. I nodded and he disappeared in the throng of people that now surrounded the square. It was all me now. I stalked silently through the group of people until I saw Patzi.

He stood about ten feet from me, arguing with a man named Benjamin Franklin, who wrote our newspapers. I gasped, knowing that unfortunately Benjamin could be taking ideas from this dangerous man. People were starting to stare at me now. I guess it was now or never. I took a deep breath and ran forward, outstretching the hidden assassin's blade on my right hand. I let out a rallying scream as the blade plunged deep into Patzi's neck. The whole crowd took three steps back and stood in complete silence while I bend down next to Patzi.

"What have you done, my child?" he looked at me, wide eyed.

"You know what you've done to me and my brothers," I replied, envisioning the group sitting at the table last night. "You know now in death what you've done to my father."

"A wo-woman?" they were his last words before I got up and looked at Benjamin, who stood wide-eyed in his bifocals. Before I took off down the street, he said something to me.

"My child, what is it that drives you?"

"The belief that this man was conspiring without noble reason. He's trying to hinder our constitution. He hung my father," I said bitterly. Guards were now swarming the square. Ben glanced from left to right, then looked back at me one last time.

"My child, if passion drives you on your journey, please let reason hold the reigns," he patted my shoulder. "Now get out of here, Listair. Your father risked a lot for you."

I started to ask how he knew me, but quickly shut my mouth and ran down the street. I couldn't describe it, that feeling of accomplishment after I had taken down Patzi. It felt strangely good, but I knew my destiny hadn't been fulfilled, that there was more left to do. I ran with all my strength to Aonghus' house and when I got there, threw myself into the arms of my new family, the family I would spend the next twenty years of my life with taking down Templars who threatened Americans. I know my destiny does not end here either. I'm Listair Ezio Auditoire, and I am an American Assassin.


End file.
